Anonymous Lover Ch. 02

I laughed. "I promise I won't do that."

"I didn't think you would".

And so we chatted and the evening passed by, and when I dropped her off at her home she leaned up to me and kissed me lightly on the lips, lingering long enough for me to know there was promise of more, but short enough to be chaste on our first date.

"Thank you, David. That was a lovely night and I'd like to do it again some time, if you would."

A flash of stockinged thigh as she climbed out of my car, and her smile as she leaned down to wave at me through the window. I drove home with the scent of her perfume in my nostrils and the memory of her lips on my mouth. This really wasn't going to help my situation, or was it?

Breakfast the next morning. Beth in a summer frock, the blue trim setting off her eyes and the white a snowy contrast to her long golden legs.

"So how was Sulky Susan then?"

She'd never met Susan, but I let the barb pass. "Good fun, thank you Beth. We had a good night".

"Did you fuck her?"

This wasn't language that Beth normally used and I wondered what was going on. She stared up at me, defiantly. This was time to stop it. I leaned towards her.

"It's a pity that when God gave you your good looks, health and intelligence, he didn't see fit to give you any manners."

She sat back, a small smile curling her lips and an expression of triumph on her face. I walked from the room, leaving her there. I didn't want her to see the hurt in my eyes.

*****

Despite her attitude, or perhaps because of it, the next few weeks were purgatory. Susan had moved away for the summer vacation so the relationship was on hold, and Beth was there when I came home from work. She had not mentioned our last exchange, but our conversations were stilted. In our old life I wouldn't have cared, but I was obsessed with her. I found myself stealing glances when she wasn't looking, and my appetite suffered. Each waking moment was filled with her face, and at night I tossed and turned with desire before relieving myself into a handful of tissues - but it did nothing to fix the frustration. I was in lust, and I was filled with self-loathing - not only because I was lusting after my kid sister but because she treated me like shit, and I took it. I was drawn to her like a moth to a bright flame, fluttering endlessly in circles and destined only for immolation. I could not keep away from her, even though I knew that she was the one striking the matches.

One night she was curled on the sofa watching television and I moved silently into the room behind her. Her small neat head was slightly tilted as she looked at the screen, and her neck was exposed. She had pinned her pony tail back, and there were small whorls of fine blond hair at the nape of her neck, and I had an almost overwhelming desire to press my lips to them and smell the warm puppy odour of her skin and the clean sharp aroma of her hair. Through a gap in her blouse I could see one cup of a lacy white bra, and the swell of her breast filling it. I imagined her nipples, almost tasting their rubbery texture on my lips, and my cock stirred in my pants. I stood there for a minute or two, feeling the blood of arousal coursing through my veins. She had that effect. Then without turning around she suddenly spoke, her voice sharp.

"Are you going to stand there all night purving at me, or are you going to sit down?"

She had been watching my reflection in the glass of the TV screen. I left the room silently, like a peeping tom, the pain of longing sharp in my guts.

Over that time I became aware of a sexual overtone to her behaviour to me, but it was taunting rather than invitational. Some I might have imagined, like the way that she left her knickers for me to pick up on my laundry rounds. Before, they were scraps of lace scrunched into balls and tossed wherever they landed. Now I found them stretched out, the crutch invariably exposed, heavily stained with her juices. Once I found a Men's magazine left on the table where she knew I would find it, one page earmarked so that it would fall open. It was a story, complete with graphic photographs, of a brother and sister living together and how he lusted after her.

She took to walking around the house in loose tops and tight shorts, or, when Mum wasn't around, in a skimpy vest and knickers that showed her thrusting nipples and the swell of her mound. She flaunted her considerable assets and then, like a kid pulling the wings off a fly, she would dismantle my clumsy attempts to get close to her. I learned in those weeks she had a sharp mind and a sharp tongue, and she used them both on me.

Things were no better the following Saturday. The previous night I had dreamed of her again, together in a shady place by a river I didn't recognise. We were alone and she had pulled down my jeans and was bent over me, her lips stretched over the purple swollen head of my cock, her head bobbing gently up and down. She was keeling, facing my feet and the short dress she was wearing had ridden up so I could see a pair of small white panties and the press of her pussy against them. I pulled them aside and she shifted her legs apart a little to afford a view of her cunt, streaming wet, and the tight crinkled opening of her anus like a small, neat freckle set between the perfect globes of her ass. I reached up and, dipping my finger in her pussy, transferred her juices to her puckered opening, smearing it gently and applying a little pressure. Her sphincter opened and I perceived the pink flesh of her rectum as my finger entered it to the first knuckle, tight and cloying. She jolted at my touch, and the extra movement tripped me over the edge so that I spurted massively into her mouth. She swallowed hungrily and then turned towards me, her creamy lips smiling before her image faded away. Like every morning now, I woke up jaded and tired.

Mum was out playing tennis and Beth had been called into work, as the normal girl had not turned up. I knew that I was part of some sort of game, but I could not figure out what it was, or why. It was time I went on the front foot, so I walked down the corridor to her bedroom. I could hear the clock ticking in the hall like a metronome, and the house was silent.

Her room was the usual jumble, bedclothes thrown back, clothes and other bric-a-brac over the floor. On impulse I looked under the bed, but the Eagle Mask had gone. I moved to the bedside table and opened the drawers, shuffling through the contents - tissues, make up, trashy paperbacks. Nothing of interest there. I moved to the small bathroom, surprisingly clean and tidy, and opened the cabinet. Another collection of creams and cosmetics, cotton buds, sanitary pads. To one side was a box of prescription drugs and I pulled it out, looking at the label: 'Ortho Tri-Cyclen Lo'. I opened it and noticed that half of the pills had been used, each pill stored in a little pocket marked with the days of the week. Friday's had gone, but Saturday's was still there. So she was on the pill, and right up to date. I wondered how long she had been taking them and who she was fucking now.

The desk in the corner of her room was also surprisingly tidy. The computer was turned on, but when I moved the mouse it demanded a password.

The top drawer contained a rummage of bits and pieces, but my eyes fell on a small notebook with a pencil stowed in its spine. I drew it out, noting its position carefully so I could return it undisturbed. It was a diary, but many days were blank whilst others only contained terse notes in Beth's small, neat hand. I turned quickly to the date of the Halloween party, but she had written nothing on that date. As I flicked through the pages I noticed a column of writing inside the front cover, mostly crossed out but the bottom one was fresh.

I had no idea what that the words meant, but I knew a password list when I saw one and I set the book down and carefully typed in the final characters in the list on her keyboard. The screen in front of me opened to her desktop. I clicked on Safari and the standard Google page appeared, allowing me to scan through her Search History, but it showed nothing unusual - Facebook, Hotmail, Clothes Mail Order sites and so on. No porn, I noted.

A quick scan of the folders and I clicked on a file called 'Journal'. I hit paydirt.

Beth's journal was a diary - a loose collection of thoughts she had written down in a Word document, with a date denoting each time she had added to the file. Some entries were very brief, a few lines about a party she had been to, or something that she thought worth capturing; others were quite long entries running to half a page or more. There were seldom days in sequence: mostly there were sporadic gaps between them. I scrolled quickly to October, searching out to see if there was an entry for Halloween. There was, and it was long. My heart was beating fast as I settled back in her chair and read the entry:

'31 October 2009

Halloween! D. had an invitation to a party and I decided this was my chance. Laura knew the guy who threw it so Sam and me tagged along. He didn't mind as we all looked hot. Important that D didn't know its me so bought awesome disguise - Eagle mask so I looked like a hot chick! Turned up early so that I could see him when he arrives, he was wearing a Tiger face, but it was obvious who he was but looks hot, though. L wants to fuck him she's not his sister so that rules her out. He hadn't a clue it was me, just wanted to get his end away and he doesn't think of me like that. Fucked him in the spare room, not bad.

Laura and Sam both got rooted too. Sam is the only one left who hasn't done it yet so I reckon she's lost the bet....'

There was more but I had seen enough to turn my world upside down again. It felt as if the words I had read had burned an indelible image onto my retina. She knew it was me. She had deliberately set out to fuck me as part of some bizarre game that she and her two friends had devised, and there was no doubt in my mind what that game was. The words were damning: '...Sam got rooted too but is the only one left who hasn't done it yet.' The 'game' was incest - a two bit bet amongst a group of cheap sluts that each of them could fuck their brothers for fun, and then boast about it. Laura had a brother and Beth had described him as 'hot'. I had no doubt that Laura could entice him into her bed whenever she wanted. Beth had a brother too, and she had done the same to me.

For a long time I sat there, with ashes in my heart. Presently I stirred, closed the file, enacted the screensaver and carefully placed the small diary back in the top drawer. I walked to the door and surveyed the room with a critical eye, satisfied that nothing I had done or touched would be evident. I closed the door softly behind me, and walked heavily back to my room.

Just about the only positive in this whole twisted affair was that Beth didn't know that I knew she had been the anonymous lover. It was time to teach her a lesson she would never forget.

*****

(c) May 2010. Not to be reproduced without the express permission of the author.

Author's note. If you liked this story (or even if you didn't), could you take a moment to provide comment? I can only improve with feedback - it will only take you a few seconds and I'd be most appreciative.....

Thanks. H_S.